Passions
by K-Lie
Summary: Satine thinks about her life and her future with Christian. FLUFF ALERT.


Author's Note - I don't own Moulin Rouge, Satine, or Christian. I dun' own nothin', kay? Baz does. And I don't own the song either. . . I'm not too sure who sings it, but it's the Passions themesong. . . That's all I know. Either way, I don't own it, and I'm not claiming to.  
  
Passions  
  
The sun had just risen over the small village of Montmartre, and - though the average town would be bustling with life already - the town had just gone to sleep. The streets were empty, save for a few drunks and some tired prostitutes, on their way home. Other than that, it was as though a blanket of silence had been laid over the village.  
  
Suddenly, the lithe form of a young woman enters the streets, a lightweight coat wrapped around her figure. Fiery red hair is pulled up onto a bun on the top of her head, a few strands loose and dangling around her face, framing it. Tightening her hold on her coat as a slight breeze blows through the air, she quickens her pace, seeming rather intent upon reaching her destination.  
  
A few blocks back towards the way she came, a handsome young man is awakening from his sleep. Inside a small, rather bare, garret, the man's eyelids flutter open as he reaches over next to him, in search of a missing person. He groans sleepily, moving into a sitting position as he continues his search. "S'tine?"  
  
When he receives no response, he grunts, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Untangling the blankets from around his legs, he stands, immediately looking around for pants. After a quick search, he finds what he's looking for, and pulls them on. Doing a quick stretch of his legs, he starts limping towards the kitchen. His legs don't work right this early. "Satine? Honey?"  
  
After a check of the kitchen and bathroom, the young man begins to get worried, unsure as to what may have happened to his beloved. Sure, she's had to leave early before, but never without waking him up. Grabbing a shirt, he pulls it on, ready to go in search of his diamond. But, as he begins to make his way towards the door, something catches his eye. Moving closer to his typewriter, he finds the poorly spelled message:  
  
i hed too think and its to pretyy to stae inside. went to the park. love, Satine.  
  
The young man can't help but smile at the message. It looked as though a child had typed it. He was a little surprised by her bad spelling, but after a moment, he finds that he really isn't so surprised. Did he really expect that these pros. . . that these women who sold themselves really received an education in anything other than money and sex? Grabbing his coat, he turns towards the door, to go join his diamond.  
  
The young woman with the fiery red hair slipped through the streets of Monmartre, finally arriving at the small park. It wasn't really a park; Just a small area of secluded land with a small lake in the middle that had formed. Either way, it was a beautiful place. A perfect place to think.  
  
A small bench had been constructed near the water, so she eagerly made her way towards it and sat down. Arranging her skirts around her, she gently pulls her locks free of the bun, allowing them to freely cascade down her back as they desire. "Never knew I could feel like this. . ." she whispers, slipping off her shoes and stockings, so she can slip her feet into the chilly water. "Come what may. . ."  
  
She smiles to herself, thoughts of Christian filling her mind. Her beautiful, charming, adorable, not to mention penniless, poet. It was hard to believe that she was no longer the diamond-hungry hooker she once was. And yet, at the same time, she still was. There was the Duke. She was still seeing him. But not for herself. For everyone. For the sake of everyone.  
  
The sweet chirping of a pair of birds draws her attention away from her thoughts and towards them. Hmm. So free. Free like she wants to be. Perhaps she should free her beloved pet from her cage. Allow her to go free like she wishes to. Yes. That's exactly what she'll do when she arrives home, she decides.  
  
As the warm sun gets even higher overhead, Satine shrugs off her coat, no longer really needing it, despite the chilly weather. Winter will be here soon. She sighs, thoughts once again being pulled towards Christian. Oh, how she loves him. . .  
  
"I would hold the hand of the one who could lead me places. . ." She sings, splashing her feet into the water childishly.  
  
"And kiss the lips of the one who could sing so sweet." How much she wishes she could be open with her relationship with Christian. If only, in the middle of rehearsal, she could grab him and just kiss him, right there, in front of everyone. Unfortunately, she knows she can't. Not yet, at least.  
  
"And I. . . would fly on the wings of the bird. . . I knew. . . would take me highest. . ." Christian would do it. He'd be the one to ensure that she flies away. He's her ticket out of here. Him, and their love. She'd only have to stay with the Duke for a couple of shows. Just to keep the funding. Then, after publicity is booming, perhaps she'll get what she wants: To be an actress. Maybe the Duke isn't the only one with connections. Then she'll fly away from here. Away with Christian. Her beloved Christian.  
  
"Breathe in, Breathe out. . ." Life would be wonderful. Christian would most certainly become a famous playwright: who could deny that 'Spectacular Spectacular' was not one of the most original, well-written plays out there? And she's become an actress. Then, after that gets old, they'll move to the country, and buy a small cottage out there. They'll have tons of children. . . Yes. Nothing could hurt her now. There future was set.  
  
"You keep me alive. . ." Harold was wrong. Love did not hurt people. It made them stronger. Love wasn't something to avoid at all costs. . . It was something to open your arms willingly to. 'Love is like oxygen! Love is a many splendored thing! Love lifts us up where we belong! All you need is love!' Oh, how silly that had once sounded. And now. . . She believes it, wholeheartedly. All you need is love.  
  
"You are the fire burning. . . Inside of me. . ." A wide grin now tugs at her lips, making her giggle. Before Christian, when was the last time she laughed? Really laughed? Not the coy giggles or fake laughter when some snotty old man told a tired joke, but real laughter? She couldn't really remember. It had certainly been awhile, though.  
  
"You are my passions for life. . ." She jumps as she feels a hand on her shoulder, and nearly screams in surprise. However, the soothing voice of her lover calms her. "Sh. . . It's just me, love."  
  
Turning back to look at him, she grins, stretching her neck up for a kiss. Bending over, Christian's lips find hers, and they share a short kiss. "Mmm, Christian. . ." Satine breathes into his mouth, before pulling away. "I was hoping you'd show up."  
  
"How could I not, milady?" He winks at her, before seating himself on the bench next to her. "You scared me when I woke up alone. . . It was cold in bed without you. . ." His lips manage to find her earlob, and he gently nibbles on it.  
  
"I love you, Christian."  
  
"I love you too, Satine." With that, they lean in towards each other, ready for their next sweet kiss.  
  
"Breathe in, Breathe out. . . You keep me alive. . . You are the fire burning inside of me. . . You are my passion for life. . ."  
  
Satine's lips meet Christian's, and the two lovers get lost in one another for the rest of the morning. 


End file.
